


Elevator Talk

by RiverOfFandoms



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Grief, Reader-Interactive, angsty, rape/abuse mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:26:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverOfFandoms/pseuds/RiverOfFandoms
Summary: Being stuck in an elevator at the Neptune Grand with Dick Casablancas has always been a dream of yours... not. After the death of your friend Cassidy, Dick's brother, and the secrets that turned Neptune upside down, your friendship with Dick isn't exactly existent. But being stuck in an elevator for half an hour might change everything. (Set during season 3).





	Elevator Talk

You fight the urge to grimace as you walk into the elevator on your way up to Logan's party. Of course, still hanging out with people from your high school surprises you, you thought you'd be miles away from Neptune by now. But that's just not the case, not after the mess of last year. It's taken a toll on you, but not just you.

 

Beside you, also taking the elevator to the same party, stands Dick. His blond bleached surfer hair slightly longer, more bruises, and the smell of alcohol on him already, although not swaying yet. You're used to seeing him more than often, sharing the Hearst campus along with Logan, his girlfriend Veronica, and their friends Piz, Mac, Wallace and Parker. 

He nods at you as some sort of silent greeting, and averts his eyes as soon as possible. You stare down the elevator doors as if focusing all your energy on these doors would make this situation less awkward. You haven't seen Dick since... you hate to remember. Last year was a dark time for all people of Neptune high, especially those who knew the Casablancas', and the kids on the bus. 

_Cassidy._ His name still leaves shivers, but mostly sadness. He was one of your closest friends, hell more of a friend than Dick or Madison, and sometimes even Meg. And Dick knows that. That's why you two barely talk anymore, because one of you deeply cared for Cassidy and it wasn't the brother.

Dick goes to say something, "Y/N--"

Suddenly the elevator shudders to a stop, long before it actually should, and the lights blink out into darkness. You feel for the wall next to you out of instinct, the cool metal against your fingertips, and you hear Dick mutter a curse word under his breath. The emergency lights flicker on, dim and dull, casting many odd shadows, but just bright enough to make out Dick's face. He seems to be unfazed, mostly. 

You sigh, "I can't believe this."

Dick chuckles, "What, _so_ totally psyched to go to Logan's party that being a few minutes late would ruin your excitement?" 

You shake your head, "No, definitely not. But I'd rather not be stuck in an elevator." With you. 

"With me?" He grins, from ear to ear, and you're almost not sure how to respond. Then you remember, it's Dick. It doesn't really matter either way if he knows your opinion or not.

You shake your head again, "Because I get claustrophobic easily." 

Silence settles between you, and you're quickly reminded of the awkwardness that is now your relationship with this boy. There was a time where you both could actually hold a conversation, although mostly witty and filled with argument, at least there wasn't this unbreakable tension around him like there is now.  

His voice cuts through your whirlwind of thoughts, "Planning to get completely wasted tonight?"

You screw your face up in disgust, "Not around former high school friends." 

"Wait... friends? We were friends?" He looks at you innocently, hiding the mocking grin from your view.

You roll your eyes, "Ha ha, Dick." You swallow, "Don't bet on being able to drink tonight anyway, it will only happen if we get out of this damn elevator."

He shrugs, "Shouldn't take them too long."

The conversation fizzles out quickly, and you're subject to awkward silence yet again. Everything about this elevator ride is awkward. You wish it wasn't. The one time you decide to actually go out and meet up with a few friends from Neptune, and Hearst, you get stuck in an elevator with a former friend who's the brother to your dead, murderous best friend. Therapy, anyone? It's not like you even wanted to come out tonight, or any night, but your roommate was threatening to go to the college campus counselor and tell on you for not socialising like a normal person. And with your history, especially the events of the past year, they would hammer down on you until you were "normal" again. 

You sigh, and wish you could just sink into the elevator wall, "I hate these parties." You manage to actually get his attention with that statement. "I hate seeing people from our school."

You see Dick swallow uncomfortably, obviously not wanting to join in on this new topic of conversation. 

"And I hate coming here, to the Neptune Grand."

Finally he moves, shaking his head, "And you think I don't? That I love coming here? Please."

You look over at him with firm eyes, "No, of course not."

Dick clenches his jaw, as if annoyed at you, or himself, "You're not the only one who wants to vomit at the sight of the front entrance." 

You try not to look as if him somewhat opening up like this is a big deal. But you never really had any meaningful conversations with him. And of course, you never got to talk about Cass, or Dick's grief. Or your own, for that matter. You try to bite your tongue but you just can't keep your mouth shut, "Then why are we here?"

He's silent for a few seconds, and for a moment you think he won't reply at all, "You tell me."

You breathe harshly through your nose, "Alright, I'll tell you why." You push off the wall and step a little closer to him, "You come here because it's one of the only places you can get drunk off your face without the cops busting you."

He looks to the floor, and you're not sure if it's out of shame or honesty. "And you?"

You look at his face for a moment, already knowing the answer but not really wanting to share it. "I come here because I can't stand being alone."

He looks up at you, as if he might understand where you're coming from. This time, his eyes don't leave yours, and you start to think he might be contemplating something. "Y/N..." Dick starts, also leaning away from the wall, "You were one of the last people to see Beav before he went up to the roof. Before he... before..." He sighs frustratedly, annoyed about having to ask-- or wanting to ask. "Did he say anything to you?"

"No... he..." you turn away, memories from the night that he confessed to crashing the bus, murdering those people, and then jumping off the roof flash through your mind. "He just said something about heading off early, you know, with Mac." 

You watch Dick's face fall, and you're suddenly reminded that there's something else you could tell him. But would it help? Every time you see Dick, he's either wasted or on his way... of course the suicide of his only blood-brother contributes, but more information on it-- wouldn't it just worsen it all?

You swallow as you decide what to say next, "Actually Dick," you catch his eyes, "Cass sent me a text. Minutes before he jumped." 

Dick looks surprised, "He did?" A flash of urgency or bewilderment crosses his face, "What did he say?"

You glance at the elevator floor, nervous about the words that you could say-- this text, you never shared it with anyone. Ever. You find Dick's eyes again, "He said..." You try to conjure up the words in your mind, and they're there, they always are, you could never forget them, but saying them aloud is harder than you thought. "The first part, it said, 'I love you'. And then he said, 'I'm so sorry.'" You take a second to breathe long, slow breaths, trying to say these next few words without completely falling a part. You don't look up at Dick, you can't, not yet. "And then, as I texted him back asking why he was 'so sorry', I walked out of the Neptune Grand front doors and saw his body on the ground."

You find Dick's eyes, swimming and emotional in blue, and you wish you had something better for him to hear. 

"I'm sorry Dick..." You wipe your face with the end of your jacket sleeve, "I don't know why he sent it to me, I question that everyday--

"He sent it to you because it's true." He shrugs off his emotions, the tears gone almost immediately, "You were one of the people he trusted, and cared for. You were his friend for a very long time, way before Mac or... even Logan."

You smile at the thought, but confusion overwhelms you more than anything, "But was that the real Cass? I mean, if Cass could murder innocent people... doesn't that make you wonder, which Cass is the real one?"

Dick looks away again, "He did what he had to do to protect himself. Even if it was totally messed up... Beav was messed up. If things went a different way, he wouldn't have done it."

Your hand falls on his arm out of instinct. You know Dick's sudden growing appeal to being drunk more than he used to is more than just coping with grief; guilt too. "It's not your fault."

"It is my fault."

"Dick, he was raped by somebody he trusted! That violation... that transgression led to what he did, not you."

"I could have... I don't know, not treat him like shit!"

You press your lips tightly together, trying to compose your emotions, "Yes, Dick, you probably could have treated him better. But how were you to know about what happened to him? How were you to know?"

"If he trusted me, he might have told me."

"You said he trusted me, but he never told me anything about it."

"I..." He brushes his hair back, and now you see the tears spill, "I just wish I could had helped him. I wish I could have been better. I wish I wasn't just like my Dad."

"We make mistakes, Dick. Awful ones." You suddenly pull him into a hug, not really thinking about how weird of an idea this would seem to you half an hour ago, "But you're not to blame for Cassidy's suicide. Or the bus. Or the rape. Unless you held a knife to him and forced him too, it was not your fault."

He shakes with sobs as he lets go of trying to hide his need to cry. You've cried so much since, you're surprised that you can still manage a few tears. Minutes go by of uncontrollable sobs before he quietens down, now sitting on the floor though, Dick still in your embrace. You think about how ridiculous this situations seems, but you don't mind. No matter how many times Dick lived up to his name, he doesn't deserve to be on a warpath of self-destruction because of guilt for his brother. 

"I know we're not great friends Dick, and that we never have been... but I think we could be, if you wanted to try." You cringe at your own words, and before he can reply, "and I promise to not sound as cheesy and corny as that sentence ever again."

He wipes the tear stains from his face and laughs quietly, "I'll take your word on that."

The elevator suddenly shakes back to life, the lights almost blindingly bright, and you feel it move upwards towards Logan's floor again. Dick helps you up from the ground, and you help him with his puffy face and messy hair, although reminding him that everyone will probably be way too wasted to even notice or care. 

"Thanks, Y/N."

"You too." 

He smiles, and the elevator doors slide open. You're greeted by an annoyed Logan, who seems to have been waiting for Dick especially-- you realise why after you notice the backpack of alcohol slung over his shoulder. 

"Sorry, Logan, the elevator--

He waves you in dismissal, "It's alright, I heard. I tried to get them to work it out sooner but those guys probably got some sort of enjoyment over knowing that two 09'rs were stuck in an elevator."

You laugh, "Fair enough."

Suddenly Dick comes back to retrieve you from the hallway, taking your arm into his hand, "Okay, _f_ _riend_ , if we're doing this, we're getting wasted together!"

You shake your head and ignore Logan's curious stare, "Fine, okay! Getting wasted it is."

He takes a sip from an already mixed drink, "You'll have to drink fast though, I'm afraid I had a pretty big start."

You roll your eyes and steal his drink, "Shouldn't take me too long!"


End file.
